


Lost Love

by ORainStorms



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Feels, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, Love, Love/Hate, Lust, Lust at First Sight, Meet-Cute, One Night Stands, Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Story Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-28 20:08:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21142451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ORainStorms/pseuds/ORainStorms
Summary: Five years after the battle of Hogwarts, the wizarding world is celebrating the anniversary of its victory.Allison Jones and George Weasley will never look upon the day favorably and are trying to drown their sorrows in peace, thank you very much.They discover that human connection eases the burden of grief on one intense night together.





	1. The Leaky Cauldron

As she approached the door, Allison could hear the raucous laughter of celebration. She tentatively pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped into the Leaky Cauldron. All around the room, groups of men and women gathered around tables and stood in clumps toasting and celebrating the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Five years free of the threat of Voldemort and his supporters brought back life and business to Diagon Alley and all of wizard kind was eager to revel in their good fortune.

Allison’s heart pounded in her ears and flooded her face with heat as she scanned the crowd of joyous faces. This was not a day Allison would ever celebrate, but the world went on, oblivious to her grief. She shuffled past tables and fell onto a stool at the bar. Catching Tom’s, the innkeeper’s, eye she ordered fire whiskey and scowled at the merrymakers as she waited.

Pitcher after pitcher of butterbeer was poured and served. Wine flowed in unending streams into patron flagons. Allison watched, her face becoming darker and tears threatening in the corners of her eyes. Finally, Tom rushed over with her drink. Sloshing and sliding, it was thrust toward her. Allison gratefully reached out, eager to keep the memories at bay and allay some of her sorrow.

Her fingers just skimmed the rim of the glass when a hand shot out to flag down the innkeeper.

Glass shattered, liquid spread, and a brief flame erupted on the floor behind the bar counter.

Incensed, Allison spun on her stool and glared up. And up. And up. And up. Until finally, her glare met a startled green gaze.

“So sorry,” he muttered quietly before turning his back to her and calling out to Tom, “Mate! Bring us another two fire whiskey, would you?”

He dropped unceremoniously into the chair beside her.

_In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth. _

Her mantra for calm repeating in her head, she tried to do as it instructed, but instead huffed derisively and could feel the heat of the anger ricocheting off of her. Again, she signaled to Tom, gestured to the ruined drink, and signaled for another. She turned away from the stranger and scowled at her hands trying desperately to breath and achieve some modicum of civility. As the warm body beside her shifted, the heavy fabric of his cloak rustled, and a scent reminiscent of cloves crept into her nostrils.

“Really am sorry. I’ll replace it,” he exhaled.

Barely turning her head, she glanced over. In profile, she took in his long, slender nose, trim auburn beard, and red hair, kept short in the back, but with slightly longer on top, which flopped onto his forehead. He seemed huge beside her, so tall and broad, even as he sat, slumped. Turning her head further to look around the room once more, Allison noticed the stark difference between the celebrators and unwanted companion.

Noticing the despair radiating off of this man deflated her anger somewhat. She sighed, “Don’t do it again,” and finally managed some calming breaths. “Tonight is not a good night for me. I am ready to start drowning these sorrows and if you spill my drink again, I won’t be held responsible for what happens next.”

“Ha!” He-Who-Ruins-Drinks snorts mirthlessly “You think your day’s bad? You’re delusional. You don’t know what that means; so don’t give me that bullshite. You’re drink is coming, so do what you like and leave me alone.”

Allison stared, mouth agape. He had the audacity to be this rude after spilling _her_ drink. She forcibly resisted withdrawing her wand and cursing this man into next year.

“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck being fucking polite.”

“I let it go when you marched in here and started ruining my night because I can see you’re hurting; but you know what? You aren’t the only one!”

“Did you think you had a monopoly on grief?”

“Fuck. You.”

“I get to be as angry and upset as I want to be on the anniversary of my parent’s death and if you don’t like it, leave,” she nearly declared, picking up steam and growing in volume.

Allison stared straight ahead, boring a hole in the wall with the ferocity of her gaze. She refused to move or give in. She was right, dammit.

“I’m… sorry,” the voice beside her whispered.

Wordlessly, Tom approached. He cautiously looked back and forth between them, sensing the hostility. Smiling timidly, he set the drinks down, his hands only shaking a little.

Allison grabbed hers before it had fully settled on the counter and immediately tossed it back in one swallow before slamming it back down and signaling for another.

Beside her, the red haired man, raised an eyebrow skeptically. He cradled his glass between his two large hands and stared into the depths of the alcohol as if seeking guidance. Slowly, he raised it to his lips, closed his eyes, and drank deeply.

They sat in silence, Allison’s anger burning to embers under the influence of the apology and the whiskey.

“How’d your parents die?” the man murmured.

Allison bristled at the impertinence of the question, her temper sparking again. How dare he ask something so personal? What right did he have to know anything about them? Or her? But as she glared over, she noticed a solitary tear falling. Her mouth fell open as the irritation fled. Everything in her ached to reach out and comfort, but she held back. Instead, she answered his question.

“Battle of Hogwarts,” she mumbled.

He nodded and sniffed before turning to face her fully.

“My brother too. It’s never the same after, is it?” he asked.

Allison’s gaze rose to meet his and locked on beautiful, mahogany eyes. As she looked back and forth between them, wondering at the sudden confession, she felt warmth bloom in her chest.

Minutes passed as they held each other’s gaze, wounded souls recognizing each other. Scorched by the intensity, Allison found herself unwinding her scarf and removing her cloak. As his knee bumped hers, a tingle radiated upwards and she squeezed her thighs together. Taking in all of his face, she noticed that he was missing his left ear. Funny how that didn’t begin to dampen her quickening attraction. He reached out and tucked a wayward blond curl behind her ear, still searching her eyes.

“I’m George, by the way. Sorry for being such a bloody twat. Didn’t used to be like this,” he sighed, “Fred would have trolled me endlessly.”

Allison leaned unconsciously into his touch. _When was the last time she’d be touched? By anyone? _ Her eyes drifted to his mouth, and unconsciously, she scraped her lip with her teeth. He drew in a sharp breath through his nose, swaying, uncertain.

Shaking hands reached up. George cupped her face, staring intently into her eyes.

“Okay?” he whispered leaning in.

Allison didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Every fiber of her being was focused on his lips. She leaned forward and met them, softly. Sparks ignited at her breastbone as he hummed against her mouth and drew her forward, crushing her lips to his. His tongue swept out, requesting access. She eagerly complied, sucking him in.

She leaned further, and toppled from her stool.

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her up and into his lap. Allison could feel the firm length of him pressing against her from this position and pressed back in a firm rotation of her hips. A breathless laugh escaped George as he broke the kiss.

Forehead to forehead, he murmured, “Probably not the best place, love.”

He tried to set her back on her own stool, but Allison clung to him. For some reason, now that this interlude had begun, she was desperate not to let it go. Not to return to the lonely despair. She so deeply longed for this human connection.

“I have a room upstairs,” she suggested.

A slow smile crept onto Georges face. Ignoring Tom, finally bringing their second round, he reached blindly into his pocket and withdrew coins, placing them on the counter. Taking her hand, he quickly guided them past patrons and to the staircase.

“Lead the way,” he replied.

They traversed the inn in silence, and Allison began to second-guess herself. At her door, she drew in a shuddering breath.

“We don’t have to do this. Or anything. You can decide,” he consoled.


	2. The Room Upstairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times

George waited several minutes while she collected her courage. His hand slid from hers and she mourned the loss.

“Don’t leave,” Allison whispered.

She felt the warmth of his body approach and his hand returned to brush the hair from her nape before being replaced with the warmth of his mouth. She ached with longing as her body ignited. His hands descended to cup her hips as he tugged her backwards. The tiniest whimper escaped as she pressed her backside into him, again feeling the firmness of his body.

Resolved, she fished the key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Head bowed, eyes downcast, she held it open. She watched his feet cross the threshold and walk to the bed. She heard the slight rustle and creak as he sat. She closed the door and stared at it, clutching the handle. With a determined breath, she turned the lock and faced him.

Head tilted, he watched her, cautious. Long legs stretched out, feet crossed, he leaned back on his hands, making no move towards her.

_Come on! Do something, please. I don’t know how to get this thing started. _ Wringing her hands, she stared back in dismay, wondering what to do.

“Tell me what you want,” George cajoled.

She shrugged, “To forget, like before, just for a little while. I didn’t realize that being with someone could do that. I just kind of shut myself off after they died.”

Fidgeting uncomfortably, she toed at the carpet. _Was this finally going to happen, or not?_

Shifting his weight, he stood and strode towards her. He backed her into the wall, framing her body with his. Hands reaching into her hair, he pressed his mouth to hers. Sampling and savoring, his lips were gentle against hers. Allison met him kiss for kiss but quickly became frustrated. She wanted the intensity of before. She bit his lip. Groaning, he pressed his hips to her to pin her more fully. Raking his fingers through her hair, he tilted her head and sealed his lips to hers, teasing her with his tongue. Allison wrapped her arms around him and crushed her breasts to his chest. She frantically sucked at his tongue as she writhed against him.

His hands explored her hips and back as he gently sucked his way down her neck to her collarbones. Working his way back up the other side, his hands found their way to her breasts. Finding the peaks, he pinched them through the fabric. Her entire body surged into the caress. Her brain fuzzed. She had no room for any thoughts as her body was bombarded by exquisite sensation.

Cloaks, robes, and clothes melted to the floor as they frantically learned each other’s bodies. Mouth on hers, he unhooked and unbuttoned, deftly disposing of multiple layers at once. Her fingers shook as she tried to do the same and became tangled in the fabric. After a deep kiss, he took a step back and removed them for her as she watched.

Down to her bra and panties, Allison crossed her arms over herself and looked over to the bed.

_Am I actually going to do this?_

Before she could think to much about it, George had kicked off his own clothing and approached in nothing but his Y-fronts. He drew her arms around his neck and lifted her. Hitching her legs up to encircle his waist, George carried her to the bed.

Laying her down, he worshiped her with his mouth and hands, kissing and caressing. He trailed his fingertips along her thighs while placing kisses on her wrists. Eyes devouring her, he stroked her breasts and plucked at her nipples, observing each reaction. Hands drifting ever lower, he teased until finally finding the place she wanted him most. Moaning loudly, Allison’s back bowed off the bed.

Smiling wickedly, George worked his way down her body and positioned himself between her thighs. When the first lick landed, her legs tried to close around his face as she gasped at the tingling jolt of desire coursing through her body. Chuckling darkly, George wrapped his arms around her thighs and leisurely pursued her pleasure.

“Please! Please, I need you,” Allison begged.

George didn’t pause, but quickened his pace, inserting a finger into her and rubbing gently upwards.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!” she sobbed.

Allison felt everything within her tensing, approaching a precipice. 

George inserted another finger.

Allison shattered. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as her entire body shook. Allison could feel his smile as George kissed his way up her body.

In her ear, he whispered, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He rubbed his member along her slick slit before finding her entrance and sliding in.

Allison’s breath caught. This _hurt._ They both froze.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” George gasped, strained.

“I’m a… I’m a… I’m a virgin,” Allison stammered.

“Not anymore… Do you want to keep going?”

“Y-y-yes.”

He kissed her gently.

“Try to relax as much as you can,” he coaxed, continuing to distract her with his lips on hers. Hips still, he waited for her to grow accustomed to the feel of him within her. Resting his weight on one arm, George trailed light fingers up her arms, along her neck, and down her chest. In gentle caresses, he circled her nipple until it ached. Ducking his head, he drew the peak into his mouth and sucked lightly. She writhed against him, needing more.

He began to slowly withdraw and Allison felt strangely empty after the painful fullness of before. Then, he pushed forward and she did her best to relax. _Was it meant to feel like this?_ Slowly and carefully, George continued slowly thrusting and withdrawing, thrusting and withdrawing, until, miraculously, Allison’s body did relax beneath him.

Stranger still, she began to want more. She began to move with him and not only match his pace, but encourage him quicken it. Incoherent sound of pleasure escaped her. He reached between them to stroke her. This time, they exploded together.

Breathing heavily, George turned to his side, pulling her with him. They held each other, like the only life vest while lost at sea, as their breathing slowed and their eyes drifted closed.

\--

Harsh sunlight accosted Allison’s face and shoved her roughly from her slumber. Blinking her eyes against the blare, she tried to focus. The bed was rumpled. Pillows on the floor. Coverlet tossed aside. But she was completely alone.

A small splotch of red marred the white covers. Allison’s cheeks flared. Her eyes landed on a small piece of parchment on the nightstand.

A note.

“Getting breakfast, back soon.”

Allison started her hand flying to her mouth. What should she do? Did she want to see him again? She stood, wrapped in the top sheet, and dithered.

_No time to worry about it now_, she thought. She rushed around the room to restore it to some semblance of order, grabbed up her clothing, and ran a quick shower.

Finally, all was settled, her bag was even packed. She was pretty proud of herself.

And she sat on the bed and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

She looked at her watch. She would need to leave now if she hoped to make it on time. Sighing, she looked around the room one more time, committing every detail to memory, before grabbing her trunk and walking away, out hail the Knight Bus.


End file.
